


Recompense

by iCheat



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, BAMF Stiles, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Magic, Magical Murder, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Nemeton, Nogitsune, Possession, Ritual Murder, Steter Secret Santa, ritual cleansing, rubyredhoodling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 13:15:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13167690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iCheat/pseuds/iCheat
Summary: Stiles turns up at Peter's apartment asking for help. Peter is happy to provide but quickly become concerned about Stiles's health. Now he has to try and balance his desire for vengeance with his desire to keep Stiles alive and well.For the Steter Secret Santa





	Recompense

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rubyredhoodling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubyredhoodling/gifts).



> Merry Murder! Or holidays. Whichever.
> 
> Potential trigger for the Nogitsune using Stiles, check end notes.

Peter woke up with his wolf on edge. For a brief moment he was sharply aware of something dangerous and powerful, and then it disappeared, between one breathe and the next. If Peter was human he might have rolled over and forgotten about it. He wasn’t though, and his wolf remained on edge, warily waiting for something to appear.

He got a knock at his door.

He could hear a rapid heartbeat and a familiar scent.

Stiles.

That was more than enough to get Peter out of bed. Stiles was without a doubt the most interesting person he had any involvement with at the moment. Even if you ignored the fact that Peter had never given him his address. He pulled on a pair of sleep pants and walked towards the door.

Stiles’ scent was tainted by stress and he was tapping something.

Peter opened the door with a confident smile and a raised eyebrow. Stiles didn’t look much better than he smelt. He had a backpack hanging from one shoulder, a messy collection of papers in his hand and he was tapping the toe of his shoe against the ground rapidly.

“I need your help,” he said before Peter had a chance to speak. His heartbeat, though fast, didn’t jump at all. Stiles genuinely wanted, _needed_ , his help.

“Why aren’t you speaking to Scott, or Derek?”

“Derek’s moping about dating another psychopath, Scott’s pining for a potential psychopath, and neither of them have the moral ambiguity I actually need in this situation. Are you go to help me?”

“Well, I am curious. Do come in.”

Stiles didn’t even hesitate, all but pushing past Peter to get into the apartment. He made a beeline for the table and dumped his papers onto it. Peter watched as he organised the papers in a way that presumably made sense to him. Peter, now looking over Stiles’ shoulder noticed the pictures that landed on the table as he pulled more stuff from his bag.

“Gerard, Duecalion, and Jennifer?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, scanning over the other papers with a new interest. There was a file with the name of a retirement home on it, a pile that appeared to track the Alpha Pack’s movement, and a collection of notes with the name Julia Baccari on them.

“Julia, actually, the Durach,” Stiles answered absently as he pulled his lap top out. Peter pointed him to a plug before he could ask.

“And what, exactly, do these three have in common?”

“I want to kill them.”

Peter paused. Stiles’ scent was still sour with nerves and his heart beat faster than normal but it didn’t stutter. Stiles looked determined, though not quite eager, and this definitely explained why Stiles didn’t go to Derek or Scott.

“That’s not exactly morally ambiguous. I think it’s just considered wrong,” Peter said, mostly just to test Stiles’ commitment. He was more than happy to kill these three, or two as it were, but if Stiles decided he needed to back out it could leave Peter in a tough situation. He didn’t particularly want to kill Stiles. Especially now that he was getting even _more_ interesting.

“Everything is ambiguous with us,” Stiles said in a challenging tone. “You’re dead. Scott’s considered the peak of morality and he used someone against their will to give someone else a slow and painful death. Nothing makes sense here and murder is sometimes the right answer.”

That certainly made a lot of sense.

“I’m certainly more than happy to help. You can start with removing her from the list.”

“What? You killed Mrs Blake?”

“Is that a problem?” Peter asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No,” Stiles replied instantly. His voice was tight and his heart stuttered as he started moving all the papers about Blake out of the way of the other two. He was tapping the table rapidly with a finger.

“Are you sure there isn’t something we need to discuss before we jump to murder? I’m not sure how confident I am if you’re going to get this skittish every time.”

“Where did you kill her?”

“The preserve what does that have to do with anything?”

“We’re on a time limit. We have to kill them on the preserve at least, the closer to the Nemeton the better, and you can kill Deucalion. We both want to kill them, let’s not get caught up on why.”

“So, just to be clear,” Peter said, leaning against the table, “you want us to commit murder together with separate motives without sharing those motives? Not the safest plan.”

“You want to murder them because Gerard’s an Argent and Deucalion’s an Alpha. I want to kill them because they threatened the people I care about. We’re doing it near the Nemeton because it makes sense. We both agree not to kill or seriously injure each other and I don’t see a problem.”

“I see several.”

Stiles paused. He was agitated again, frustrated and worried. He wanted Peter to work with him, and realistically they both knew he would, but they also both knew that he wouldn’t without some incentive. He stood up straight, facing Peter directly, and crossed his arms.

“One question, one answer. We both have to answer honestly. Then we get to work.”

Tricky. Peter couldn’t get a lot of information with only one question. At least not from Stiles. Stiles knew the game they were playing and they were both cheating like bandits. On the other hand, there wasn’t all that much stopping Stiles from just dropping Peter and handling this himself. He was resourceful, Peter would be helpful but Stiles could most likely work it out without him there.

“Fine. You ask first.”

“What do you want? The thing you’re sticking around for despite constantly reminding us you don’t need to.”

Of course.

“A strong pack,” Peter said without hesitation, grinning when Stiles gave him a doubtful look. “I’d quite like to be Alpha of said pack, and I’d probably enjoy it being on my family land. If only for the poetic justice of it.”

Stiles nodded, like that was what he’d expected. His foot was tapping again, his energy needing some kind out outlet. Interesting. He could have asked a bigger question and tested how far Peter was willing to follow his lead, but instead he asked a question he already knew, or at least suspected, the answer to. Which mostly likely meant that he had some bigger plan and just needed to ensure how Peter was going to fit into said plan.

Crafty, but Peter had plans of his own. He was more interested in the immediate questions though. He’d have time to tease other answers out of Stiles.

“So tell me Stiles, what time limit?”

Stiles froze, for just a moment, entire body going unnaturally still. Something passed over his face that Peter couldn’t decipher and his eyes seemed to skitter to the side. Then they focused back on Peter, hard and determined. It was so close to beta gold and for a moment Peter _wanted_. Then Stiles spoke in a hard voice.

“Something worse is coming. It will wreak all kinds of horror and destruction on Beacon Hills and if we don’t do this soon we won’t be able to do it at all. We need to do this before it takes over.”

Peter had to hold back more questions. Stiles didn’t want to tell him, for whatever reason, and frankly Peter didn’t want to know what _worse_ looked like at this point.

“Alright then, where do we start?” Peter asked with a smirk. Stiles nodded and turned back towards his work.

* * *

They started with Gerard.

It made sense he was the easier target and was still using human means of travel. Deucalion, while Stiles had a general idea of his area, was going to take some actual tracking and Stiles was keen to get started. It worked for Peter too since it gave him a chance to decide what he how he was going to handle being an Alpha again.

Derek might have given up the power but now Scott held the position. Technically two Alpha’s could reside in the same territory but the requirement was that they at least had some kind of respect for each other. The chances of McCall agreeing to arrange a treaty with him were negligible. He couldn’t just remove McCall either, not if he wanted to keep Stiles around.

_God_ , did he want to keep Stiles around.

Stiles hadn’t offered any suggestions though he must have some kind of plan for it since he had agreed Peter could kill Deucalion. Stiles didn’t offer up much information at all unless it directly related to what they were doing. He continued to be skittish and agitated but wouldn’t give Peter anymore details about what was coming or how he knew about it.

Peter had suspicions, of course, but he wasn’t one to act rashly.

Besides, he’d never thought he’d see Stiles hunting. It made for a truly alluring sight.

“Stop being a perv and help me,” Stiles said in a demanding tone as he laid tarp in the back of the car Peter had organised.

“Honestly this would be easier if we didn’t have to move them.” Peter said as he lifted Stiles’ bag of equipment into the car. “Shouldn’t we have shovels?”

“We won’t need them if we kill them on the preserve.” Stiles said in a confident tone. This whole endeavour was either going to end with them killing each other, or being the most glorious thing to happen to Beacon Hills.

Peter was eager to see what they could do together.

 “If you say so. It’s your show.”

Stiles just grunted in answer. Then, everything packed, they were in the car and moving. Peter could already feel his wolf thrumming with the thrill of not just hunting, but hunting with a pack. It wasn’t exactly the traditional hunt, it was almost better, but it was more than enough to have a triumphant howl just waiting for the kill. Although they hadn’t discussed who would do the actual killing, except for Deucalion.

It had only been a couple days since Stiles first came to him and asked for help. He’d had to make sure that no one would miss him and Peter needed to organise a car. It was plenty of time for Stiles to consider it, of course. Even if he did seem distracted more often than not.

“It doesn’t look like anyone else is around him at the moment,” Stiles said, eyes on the tablet Peter had bought him. “He’s used a few of his contacts but he’s mostly isolating himself.”

“Convenient.”

“I was leaning more towards suspicious. That he’s alive at all is suspicious. What happened to get turned or die?” Stiles said, irritation clear in his voice. “Everyone keeps spouting these ‘rules’ like it matters. As far as I can tell shit happens because reasons and you’re all just bullshitting us to make yourselves look smart.”

“While I’ll admit to Beacon Hills bringing out unusual situations, I feel like you might be projecting a bit.”

“Everyone who apparently ‘knows’ about this stuff has told me something that turned out to be wrong. Everyone. I trust none of you for information.”

Peter decided he didn’t want to open himself up to that rant so stayed silent. Stiles was already on edge, Peter didn’t need him anymore riled up. At least he didn’t need any of Stiles’ irritation directed at him.

Hopefully they’d get to Gerard soon and Stiles’ could take it out on him.

* * *

Peter was in no way prepared for the sight of Stiles hitting Gerard over the head with a baseball bat. There are things you just don’t prepare for in life, ok? Peter preferred to be honest with himself. He knew his bloodlust was concerningly high and he knew he was attracted to Stiles. Both perfectly reasonable facts in his life.

That being said, he hadn’t been sure how he would handle actually watching Stiles murder someone who had done so much damage.

Catching Gerard had been surprisingly easy. He was turning, Peter had realised, just excruciatingly slowly. He immediately faced off with Peter when he entered the shack Gerard had been staying in. That had been all the opening Stiles needed to take a swing.

Gerard hadn’t seen it coming but Peter had had an excellent view.

Violent Stiles just _did_ something to him.

Stiles didn’t seem at all aware of Peter’s thoughts. His leg was bouncing nervously as he stared out the window. He kept twitching at random noises. It was probably fair, they did have a person in the back of their car. Peter wasn’t too worried. Gerard was still unconscious, for one, and he’d hear a police response well before Stiles.

* * *

Stiles didn’t even bother trying to stop his leg bouncing. Peter must have gotten used to it by now. He couldn’t be still anyway. He never could, but especially not now. Not with this dark thing looming over him. Growing. Biding its time.

Stiles didn’t know how much time they had. He wasn’t even sure what _it_ was. He knew it was dark, angry, powerful and it was going to destroy everything he’d ever cared about if he let it. It would probably destroy more than that but Stiles knew enough to know it would want to destroy him first. What better vessel than one whose original inhabitant had nothing left to fight for?

It was a fair bit of pressure.

Fortunately he had someone willing to help him with murder on hand. Peter obviously knew something was up but he was willing to go along with it, which all Stiles really needed. Besides, once this was over Stiles wanted some assurance that things would settle. That wasn’t going to happen with Scott in charge and Cora was one more incident away from convincing Derek to ditch Beacon Hills with her.

Peter knew how to look after himself, he had experience, and he was actually willing to permanently remove threats. Stiles would do worse things than align himself with Peter if it meant keeping his father safe.

“Gerard’s awake,” Peter said absently. “Somehow I don’t think he’s impressed.”

“Somehow I don’t feel particularly bad about that,” Stiles replied. Peter smirked, something Stiles wasn’t sure he wanted to identify shining in his eyes. It definitely wasn’t something to address now, maybe sometimes when his control wasn’t hanging in the balance.

It wasn’t like he was uninterested. The Hale’s were hot like burning. An entirely unfair genetic trait. Also probably an insensitive comparison. Still, he wasn’t going to even open himself up to any suggestion of a more intimate relationship until he was sure he was entirely in control of his existence.

“You said he was turning right?” Stiles asked suddenly.

“Yes.”

“Can he hear us?”

“I’m not sure,” Peter said thoughtfully. “I can hear him without a problem. He’s actively threatening us. He can almost definitely tell we’re talking, whether or not he can make out the words is up for debate.”

“Any interesting threats?”

“Quite unoriginal actually.”

Stiles let out a snort and returned to looking out the window. Honestly he’d be relieved once he knew Gerard was well out of the picture. Despite the horror movie that had become his life, Stiles would admit that his real trouble sleeping came from Gerard. Things hadn’t been great before, with Alpha Peter and committing murder but he’d had more control throughout that than that night in Gerard’s basement.

Even when Peter had taken him he hadn’t done enough damage to even bruise. Sure it wasn’t comfortable, but he’d gotten worse from bullies at school. When he’d offered the bite Stiles had been scared witless, but he’d said no and Peter had let him go. Terrifying but not nearly as bad as getting the crap kicked out of him while his class mates were tortured.

Stiles jerked forwards suddenly as Peter slammed the brakes. A look at Peter’s face had Stiles on high alert. His eyes were wide and his grip on the steering wheel was white-knuckled. Stiles even thought he saw a hint on fang.

“What? Peter what’s wrong?”

Peter growled. There might have been words in there but nothing Stiles could make out. He definitely had some fang going on. Fuck. Stiles unbuckled himself and pulled the hand before taking Peter’s face in both hands.

His eyes were glowing blue.

“Peter, I need you to focus,” Stiles said with a hard voice and steely expression. “Focus on me. It’s Stiles. It’s just us. Gerard’s in the trunk, he can’t get out. I need you to focus on him, Peter, look at me. I am fragile and human and if you lose your shit in here we are both going to regret it.”

Peter stared into his eyes and the growl that rumbled through him deteriorated into a whine. He drew a deep breath in through his nose and his eyes started to dim. When he started leaning forward Stiles didn’t put up any resistance, just gently held Peter’s head against his chest and ran a hand gently through his hair.

Peter remained quiet for a while as he anchored himself. Stiles just continued to pet him and babble whatever he thought of to help him settle. Eventually Peter pulled away and sat back in his seat. He didn’t show any sign of his brief breakdown other than the tension that continued to thrum through his body.

“She’s alive.”

“Who?” Stiles asked, but the answer came to him immediately. Peter didn’t like any of the Argent’s but only one had ever made him go near feral. “Kate?”

Peter nodded, looking straight out the window, clearly going to much effort to keep himself from shifting.

“Gerard met with her. She’s changed. Something, I, I turned her. She’s alive and powerful because I turned her.”

“Peter, look at me,” Stiles said, taking Peter’s face in his hands again. “It’s going to be ok. Gerard has a history of giving things up for his own survival. He can tell us how to find her and we could give him some more time alive.”

Peter’s eyebrows pulled together. Stiles smirked, held up three fingers and looked pointedly at the back of the car. Peter stared at him a moment longer.

“We kill Kate?”

“Kill her dead. Scatter the remains.”

“Alright.” Peter said with a hard nod. He started driving again and Stiles returned to his seat. He was somewhat unnerved by Kate still being alive – didn’t anyone in that family die? – but this worked in his favour. He’d been trying to work out how to make Peter killing Jennifer fit into what he needed but it had not been going well. This though, Kate. Kate was _easy_.

With Kate in the line-up the chances of anything backfiring went way down. It was almost better than Jennifer.

Plus, much the better they’d found out now. They had a chance to cut off another catastrophe before it even gained traction.

* * *

Peter waited with Gerard, who was unconscious again, as Stiles had ordered. He’d told Peter he was setting traps but, since he was looking for it, Peter had just managed to catch the faint scent of ozone that he gave off. That was more telling than anything Stiles had actually said to him.

Someone had been practicing magic. It was the most plausible explanation to Stiles knowing something was coming too.

“All set?” Peter asked as Stiles re-entered the area he’d left Peter in.

“All set,” Stiles said with a nod. Peter politely didn’t say anything about the way his hands shook. “How long do you think he’ll be out?”

“Not long,” Peter said with a smirk before he gave Gerard a kick. It wasn’t hard enough to do any serious damage, but enough that Gerard jerked back into consciousness. He immediately started cursing Peter out. Peter just rolled his eyes.

“Peter told me Kate’s alive,” Stiles said loudly, pulling Gerard’s attention off Peter to him. Gerard actually looked surprised for a moment then he sneered.

“So you’re Hale’s boot licker now instead of McCall’s?”

“You’re either wilfully ignorant or you are bad at judging relationships,” Stiles said with a roll of his eyes. “Now, we want to kill you, that’s a fact, but we also want to kill Kate and, much to my regret, it would make sense to take her out first. You’re options are tell us where Kate is and you get to live a little longer or keep quiet and we kill you now.”

“You’ve never killed anyone,” Gerard said with a sneer. “It takes more than a little anger to do that. You don’t have the guts.”

“Maybe,” Stiles said agreeably, “fortunately Peter’s killed plenty of people.”

Peter willingly took the implied cue and crouched beside Gerard. He held the back of Gerard’s shirt and let his claws graze against his throat. Gerard made a startled noise and Peter smirked gleefully.

“Where’s Kate?” Stiles asked.

“So the great Peter Hale is nothing more than an attack dog for a weak human child,” Gerard sneered, clearly aiming for a reaction. Peter just chuckled.

“Stiles generally has the best ideas on who to attack. I’m more than happy to encourage his budding bloodlust. Especially when he makes it worth my while.”

“You’re his little whore then,” Gerard said, focus back on Stiles who just rolled his eyes.

“As fun as the wild accusations are,” Stiles said sarcastically, “I don’t have all night. Either you tell us where Kate is or Peter ends your time on this Earth.”

“I wonder, will you beg?” Peter asked mockingly as his claw pricked the skin and let blood start to ooze out. “Kate was so obedient the last time we spoke. I’m half tempted to just kill you now. Kate makes for such an interesting hunt.”

“Might as well, since he’s obviously not talking,” Stiles said with a shrug. He cocked his head curiously, like this was just some school dissection and not an execution. Peter’s grin turned feral and he let his fangs flash.

“Fine!” Gerard snapped as he tried, uselessly, to jerk away from Peter. “I’ll tell you where Kate is. She’ll rip you both to shreds.”

“We’re all ears.”

He told them were that could find Kate and Peter looked up at Stiles curiously. Stiles shrugged and pulled a large knife out of the bag he’d packed. Huh, maybe Peter should have actually checked what was in that bag.

Stiles cut the ropes around Gerard’s ankles. Peter hauled Gerard to his feet and pushed him towards the trees.

“That’s it?” Gerard asked.

“Said we’d let you go, not that we’d give you a ride,” Stiles said with a shrug. “I certainly hope you’re not saying you can’t get your hands free. That would be embarrassing.”

Gerard sneered and walked off into the forest.

“What, exactly is your plan?” Peter asked once he was fairly sure Gerard couldn’t hear them.

“How fast is he moving?”

“Pretty average speed.”

“Ok, then it’ll probably be soon.”

Peter’s head snapped around as Gerard let out a shout. He glanced at Stiles who just smirked, picked up his bag, and started off in the direction Gerard had gone. Peter waited a moment to follow after him. He appreciated Stiles’ increasingly devious mind, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate his other assets too.

They found Gerard easily and Peter was impressed with how well Stiles had created the traditional hunter trap. It was the kind of trap they typically used to catch stray omegas. Stiles seemed deeply focused now, despite Gerard’s ranting. Peter stood back, eager to see Stiles work.

Stiles didn’t waste any time. He got the gear out quickly and only paused a moment to stare at Gerard. He took a deep breath and started speaking in a language Peter didn’t recognise. Peter silently moved around the seen so he could watch Stiles’ flinty eyes as he spoke. His tongue moved easily around the odd syllables.

Then, quite suddenly, everything went quiet. Peter watched as half of Gerard’s body hit the ground. Stiles breath shook a little but he released the trap letting Gerard’s other half fall to the ground. He said another phrase in that strange language and stepped back. Peter quickly joined him, not wanted to end up in the middle of whatever it was Stiles was doing.

He was immensely glad that Stiles was in front of him when he saw the brown vines that sprouted from the ground and wrapped around Gerard’s body. Watching the vined pull his severed body into the ground was certainly one of the stranger things Peter had witnessed in his life. Once it was done there was no sign there had ever been a body. Even the scent of blood was muted.

Peter opened his mouth to ask only to lurch forward to steady Stiles as he swayed. He didn’t collapse but he was pale and unsteady.

“Stiles,” Peter said cautiously. “Is this really something you should be doing?”

“I don’t have a better plan,” Stiles replied. He attempted to move and Peter had to catch him again. “It’s fine, can you get my bag.”

“I don’t think this is fine,” Peter said, even as he propped Stiles against a tree to clear the remains of the trap and grab Stiles’ bag.

“It’s gotta get worse before it gets better.”

“Do you want me to take you home?”

“Dad can’t see me like this.”

“You’ll be crashing at my place then.”

“Better to plot.”

* * *

Stiles slept most of the next day. Peter was careful not to disturb anything he’d brought over. Stiles practising magic was one thing, Stiles making the preserve eat dead bodies was a different issue. Especially after the Darach. Dark magic twisted people, it didn’t just change them, it destroyed them and left something dark and twisted driving their body.

He’d like to think Stiles was smarter than that, too. Stiles wouldn’t touch something like that, especially having seen the damage it did.

On the other hand. If Stiles thought he could protect the people he cared about by dabbling in something more powerful Peter wasn’t so sure on what decision he’d make.

He wouldn’t be the first person to go too far with good intentions.

It definitely _looked_ like dark magic. It didn’t carry the usual tainted scent that dark magic had. It certainly didn’t have the scent of rot and death that the Darach carried.

The problem was Peter just wasn’t sure. He, as a werewolf, couldn’t wield most kinds of magic. His knowledge of it had always been limited by that. Packs had Emissaries and sometimes a human member would show an inclination but it wasn’t something they had regular contact with usually. He knew more than average, of course, he’d needed to know what he could be facng to be a good left hand. He still needed someone else to actually perform the magic. Like Lydia.

Then the question was, what did he do? It might be dark magic and it could be hurting Stiles, so what was Peter going to do? He definitely wanted to kill Deucalion and Kate, though for different reasons. If he told Stiles they had to stop Stiles would just try to do it on his own. The two were going to die either way.

He wasn’t a good person, no one had ever accused him of such, but he wanted to stop Stiles. He didn’t want to watch that amazing potential slip away or see the clever determination sim in his eyes.

He honestly wasn’t sure he could stop Stiles.

Maybe…

Maybe after. After they’d killed Deucalion and Kate. He could keep watch over it. If Stiles’ scent started to change too much he’d find a way to stop him but otherwise he could wait. Kill these two and then ease Stiles back out of it. Coax him into lighter magics. Pack bonds were powerful things. It could very well do him some good if he joined an Alpha, properly.

They would balance each other.

He could keep Stiles stable, regain the Alpha power, and get revenge for his family. Again.

As long as he could get all three he didn’t have to choose.

Stiles woke long enough to eat dinner and collapse again. When he woke up the next day he was energised and making plans to go after Deucalion. Peter didn’t asked about what happened in the preserve but he made a point of scenting him and ensuring his base scent hadn’t changed.

* * *

“What’s this?” Peter asked when Stiles handed him a plain looking spray bottle.

“Knock out spray,” Stiles said. “Make sure you get Deucalion full in the face.”

“This is going to knock out an Alpha werewolf?” Peter asked, carefully pointing the nozzle away from him.

“It should knock out anything,” Stiles said almost absently. “No side effects. Probably.”

“Well, I’m glad we’re hitting him with it then,” Peter said easily. He ran his hand down Stiles’ arm before accepting the second thing Stiles held out. It was an amulet on a length of string. It was heavy in his palm but didn’t have any scent. He cocked his head to the side and looked at Stiles.

“It’ll hide you from his senses,” Stiles said, he was nervous. Not like he’d been with Gerard, but an edging scared kind of nervous.

“Relax Stiles, I’m sure everything will go exactly as planned.”

“That would be a novel experience.”

“I won’t let him lay a finger on you.”

“That’s comforting.”

Stiles turned and headed away. Peter hesitated. It had been sarcastic, accompanied by an eye roll, but there hadn’t been any kind of stutter in his heart.

Peter followed after Stiles with a smile.

* * *

“Well, if it isn’t McCall’s pet human,” Deucalion said by way of greeting. “Did you come all this way just to see me?”

“Yes,” Stiles said in a tight voice. “Scott won’t, he doesn’t…”

“You want the bite,” Deucalion said with a predatory smile.

“I want to be stronger,” Stiles replied, not quite meeting Deucalion’s eyes. “I want to not be left behind anymore.”

“And for that you need an Alpha.”

“Will you?”

“And what do I get from this, Stiles?” Deucalion asked, even as he stood and prowled around Stiles. “You might recall you had a fair hand in the removal of my pack.”

“I know everyone in Beacon Hills,” Stiles said without hesitation. “I know their goals. Their hopes and dreams and exactly how to break them.”

“You really do,” Deucalion said in an almost awed tone, “and you’re willing to tell me.”

“Or me,” Peter said. Deucalion spun around sharply only to receive a spray of mist to the face. He hit the floor with a hard thump. “Well, that was unpleasant for everyone.”

“Hey, I fooled an Alpha werewolf,” Stiles said. “I’m having a great time.

“Yes, such lovely half-truths,” Peter said amusedly. “You’d be excellent in a Fae court.”

“If we have an incident with the Fae after this, I will blame that comment.”

“That’s probably fair.”

* * *

After a lengthy debate Stiles agreed to let Peter ‘hunt’ Deucalion somewhat free rage. He wasn’t tied up at least, despite Stiles’ reasonable confidence that he had something that could hold the Alpha. Stiles stood on the edge of the clearing while they waited for Deucalion to come to.

He eventually did come around, red eyes snapping open and looking around wildly. They landed on Stiles first and he snarled. Peter snarled back, stepping into his view.

“Let’s not snarl at someone else’s pack. That didn’t end to well for you last time.”

“So that’s it. Peter Hale just after the power, as usual. How tedious.”

“Tedious it may be, but I’m still getting what I want.”

“And what are you going to do with him?” Deucalion asked in a low voice with a raised eye brow. Peter’s grin was full of teeth.

“Oh, all kinds of things if he lets me.”

Stiles started speaking in that unfamiliar language again and Deucalion lunged towards Peter. Peter dodged it with surprising ease. Deucalion didn’t seem up to his usual level, he noticed it too, a furious look on his face. Looked like the spray might have some side effects after all.

Peter flashed his fangs and lunged back. Deucalion, for now at least seemed only at the strength level of a regular wolf. Even better, years of being so much strong had left his actual skills somewhat rusty. It didn’t take long before he was exactly where Peter wanted him.

Stiles fell silent and Deucalion’s body his the ground.

Peter let out a roar as the power flowed through him, belatedly hoping the pendant would hide the noise from the other werewolves in town.

Stiles started speaking again and Peter backed up. He didn’t want to be anywhere near Deucalion when the land decided to swallow him. As expected the vines once again grew out and pulled the body through the earth.

Stiles spoke longer this time and Peter suddenly felt something he hadn’t even realised was off settling. He didn’t feel any weaker, just calmer. The rush of bloodlust he suddenly realised had come with the power faded away and left him clear minded.

It was amazing.

He shot forward to catch Stiles, pulled from his revelling by the sight of Stiles falling.

“Stiles. Stiles! You still with me?” He demanded, shaking Stiles a little. Stiles looked at him, eyes a little glazed but he managed to focus on Peter.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Stiles said, voice a little shaky as he smiled at Peter. “Thanks, Alpha.”

Peter preened at the title and quickly went about getting Stiles in the house and getting them home. Once more. Just one more time and he’d make Stiles stop. With a frown Peter discretely sniffed at Stiles. His scent was… It was the same but not. There was something wrong. Not like he’d thought it would be, but definitely wrong in some way.

Not rot and death though.

Just one more time. He was an Alpha now. He could find a way to pull Stiles back. He would protect his pack.

* * *

_Did you really think you could do this? I know more than you can comprehend, Stiles. Do you really think the great Alpha will turn down so much power? Especially given to him in such a desirable package?_

Trapped in his mind, Stiles screamed.

* * *

Peter was prepared for Stiles to sleep for a long time. He’d been more out of it than last time he’d probably sleep longer. Peter just needed to make sure there was food ready when he woke up. He also did what he could to track Kate so Stiles had less to worry about. Stiles notes, which he looked over with the greatest caution, looked like he wanted to take this one directly to the Nemeton.

Peter didn’t like it, not with the way the magic was already effecting Stiles.

He wouldn’t argue though. Not about this. After. Afterwards they would sit down and discuss everything like adults. Like a pack. No more secrets or talking around the issue.

When Stiles was ready to go they’d find Kate, bring her back, kill her, and Stiles would get better.

Peter was prepared.

He was not, in anyway, prepared to wake to find Stiles crawling on top of him. His eyes were lit with excitement and there was a coy smile on his face.

“Hello, Alpha,” he purred. He was leaning over Peter’s chest, which gave him the ability to look through his eye lashes at him. It was a tantalising sight.

“Stiles, what-”

“I was thinking,” Stiles said, voice low and coaxing. “It’s kind of risky taking a virgin to the Nemeton after everything Jennifer did. We could, of course, I’m sure you’d protect me, but it’s a bit risky. Besides, I do really want you to be my first.”

“Stiles,” Peter groaned. Stiles smirked, his hand snaking between them to cup Peter through his thin sleep pants.

“C’mon, _Alpha_ , don’t you want me?” He asked, looking at Peter with Bambi eyes for a moment before he shifted to grind their erections together. “Don’t you want to protect me, Alpha. I _need_ you, Alpha. _Please_ , Alpha, I _want_ -”

A growl pulled through Peter and, without conscious decision, he flipped Stiles over so he was on top. Stiles didn’t seem at all put off by this, in fact he looked eager.

“Yes, Alpha, c’mon. Take me. Make me yours.”

Peter snarled, burying his face in Stiles’ neck for a moment as they ground together. His. Yes. Stiles would be his. His to have and protect and cherish and-

And to stop the rot.

Peter reared back when the dark scent hit his nose. It wasn’t quite death but it was close. It was something. Something in Stiles.

“Alpha, Peter, c’mon,” Stiles whined, grinding hard. “Take me.”

Was it the magic? Dark magic didn’t do… this. It didn’t suddenly make people demand sex. Stiles had showed an interest before but nothing like this. Peter couldn’t deny it was attractive but would Stiles even go about it this way?

“Alpha,” Stiles said, his tone more demanding now. “Come _on_. Show me what you’ve got. Show me what you are.”

No, Peter decided, he wouldn’t.

Peter grabbed both of Stiles’ wrists in one of his hands and pinned them to the top of the bed. Stiles looked eager for a moment before he caught Peter’s expression and his face morphed into an angry sneer.

“You’re not Stiles,” Peter said challengingly. Stiles’ body looked at him contemplatively for a moment.

“Technically,” it said a slow voice, coaxing, “but I know everything he knows, and so much more. I’d be a much better asset. Besides, it isn’t like he _doesn’t_ want this. He does you know. He wants you so bad. He _dreams_ of you. He’s watched so much porn, got so many ideas. You fucking him over desks, riding you, blowing you under a desk, oh and how curious he is to try knotting.”

Peter gripped its wrists tighter and snarled. Stiles’ body just tutted at him.

“Gentle now, don’t want to damage to goods,” it said with a smirk. “Imagine it Peter. Everything you love about Stiles but better. Stronger, faster, we can be obedient too. Imagine. Stiles at your beck and call, kneeling at your feet, _submitting_. You could have that Alpha. You could have it all.”

Peter’s brain helpfully provided all the images. Enticing and sweet. His desires laid out before him, only one decision away. Everything he wanted. Stiles all to himself, loyal and deadly and beautiful. Answering to his Alpha without hesitation.

Peter leant forward, free hand reaching towards his bedside table. Stiles’ face looked wickedly delighted.

Peter leant back and sprayed him in the face.

Stiles jerked, throwing Peter off the bed and made a strange yip, hiss noise before the spray did its job and knocked him out. Peter groaned slightly as he got to his feet and looked at Stiles’ body with a frown. This was not what he’d been prepared for.

* * *

Stiles woke up tied to a chair. He woke with a panicked noise and a brief struggle before he became aware of that. He froze, eyes darting around in a panic. Fuck what had happened. He didn’t, he couldn’t… He remembered Peter killing Deucalion and carrying him home. He’d been put to bed like last time and then…

It got out.

“You’re awake,” Peter said in a flat voice. Stiles jerked his head around to look at him. Peter’s eyes were hard and cold, he looked at Stiles like a threat. Oh God, it really had got out. He’d been so close. He’d been so sure he could do it, so sure he could get rid of it before it did anything. Did it, did he…

“What did I do?” Stiles asked shakily. Peter cocked his head and prowled around him so he was standing directly in front of Stiles. He didn’t give anything away, just watched Stiles for a long moment.

“You don’t remember?”

“No, I, I remember you putting me to bed and then I just woke up like this,” Stiles said, trying to get any kind of hint from Peter’s expression. Peter just hummed thoughtfully.

“So you knew something was happening to you.”

“I, yes,” Stiles said, voice shaky. “I told you, something worse is coming. It’s, it’s coming from me because of the sacrifice we did for our parents. I’m trying to, to cleanse it but it’s, it’s stronger than me and I… I don’t know what to do.”

Peter narrowed his eyes at him then, quite suddenly he lunged forward. Stiles jerked instinctively when Peter buried his face in his neck. He couldn’t exactly get far but all Peter did was take a deep breath through his nose. Confused, Stiles remained still even when Peter pulled away and started undoing the ropes.

“What?” He asked blankly.

“I had to be sure you were in control this time,” Peter said without further explanation. “So the magic you’ve been doing when we killed them, that’s going to make it go away?”

“It’s complicated but, essentially, yes, it should over power him,” Stiles said, rubbing his freed wrists. “How, how did you know?”

“It smells like death,” Peter said, turning away from him to gather equipment. “Your scent was tainted by it when it was in control.”

“But how…”

“Let’s just focus on getting rid of it, Stiles,” Peter said in a hard tone. Stiles opened his mouth, prepared to demand answers, before he really looked at Peter. His muscles were tense, shoulders not quite hunched but he looked defensive.

It had done something. Something that let Peter get right to his neck to scent it.

Something that left Peter on edge.

“Alright,” Stiles said and watched as Peter relaxed slightly. “Let’s go hunt an arsonist.”

“Excellent.”

“And Peter?” Stiles said, grabbing his wrist for a moment to make Peter actually look at him. “Don’t let me sleep until we’ve gotten rid of it, ok?”

Realisation dawned on Peter and he nodded sharply, expression hard again.

* * *

They didn’t bother with any scheme to catch Kate. Peter was more on edge then before, eager to not only kill (again) the woman who murdered his family but to get whatever that _thing_ was out of Stiles. The risk that it could come back out had Peter watching Stiles for any signs of fatigue.

When they got to the base Kate was working from Peter, amulet around his neck, simply jumped her and smashed her head into the ground until she passed out. He loaded her into the truck quickly and efficiently and they started back to Beacon Hills. Peter would have to carry her all the way to the Nemeton, because, Stiles had finally explained, that was the main power in Beacon Hills. It was the centre of things and, more importantly, it was where the thing had come from.

Stiles didn’t say what it was. Peter didn’t ask because, for all he knew, saying its name would give it power or something. It seemed unlikely but he wasn’t willing to risk it.

Soon enough they parked the car and headed into the preserve. Peter had Kate hung over his shoulder and Stiles had his bag in hand and a grim expression on his face.

Peter was leery of the trunk that was the Nemeton but lay Kate on top of it as Stiles instructed.

“What is it you say, when you kill them?” Peter asked as Stiles put a mountain ash barrier around Kate. He had an inkling of what was coming, to make it fit the pattern, but he didn’t want to think too hard about it.

“Before we kill them I lay out their crimes and asked the powers to judge them,” Stiles said, his focus elsewhere. “Afterwards I ask the land to accept their bodies as recompense for the crimes they committed.”

“And the extra bit you said after Deucalion?”

“Deucalion broke so many old, base laws, killing off his own pack and then other packs just for power. Making others do the same. His power was tainted, no matter who had it, it would remain tainted. I ask that you have a chance to try without any taint. Since you’ve never had the Alpha power with some kind of taint to it, we were granted a chance.”

The bloodlust feeling, that brutal urge that hadn’t even had a chance to settle. Peter remembered something like it when he’d first become Alpha. He’d assumed it was just a side effect of having so much power.

“What was the first taint?” He asked, wanting, _needing_ , to hear someone else say it.

“You were hurt, Peter,” Stiles said, turning to focus on Peter. “You’d lost your pack and your Alpha abandoned you. You wanted recompense and you couldn’t trust anyone. You’re pack bonds were _shattered_. You attacked an intruding wolf. It ended up being the Alpha that abandoned you. There was so much damage to your wolf’s state, even if you hadn’t gotten the power you would have been twisted into something like that.”

“Thank you,” Peter said quietly, easily leaning when Stiles opened his arms for him.

“You don’t want to watch this,” Stiles said, turning them so Peter’s back was to Kate and the Nemeton. Peter didn’t put up any resistance. Stiles was right, he didn’t want to watch. Stiles started speaking as he held Peter. Heat flared up at Peter’s back and he buried his face in Stiles’ neck.

Stiles’ voice remained steady even when Kate started coughing and screaming. Peter focused entirely on Stiles’ scent, trying to block out the scent of smoke and burning flesh. The only sign of discomfort Stiles showed was holding Peter a bit tighter than necessary.

Eventually Kate and Stiles both fell silent and the heat behind him dissipated. He looked up, needing to see that it was done. Kate’s burnt body lay on the centre of the stump, not scared like he had been, only blackened remains.

Stiles said his next line and the vines shot out of the stump, surrounding Kate and pulling her down. Peter was grateful it took the remaining scent of burnt flesh with it. Stiles said something else and suddenly his entire weight was in Peter’s arms.

Peter held him easily until he started thrashing. The thrashing was hard and wild, erratic for a moment before his eyes snapped open shining with something dark. Peter adjusted his grip quickly. He wrapped his arms around Stiles so Stiles’ arms were pinned and his back was to Peter’s chest. Stiles’ thrashing wasn’t so erratic anymore, it was harsh and vicious, trying to escape and hurt Peter at the same time.

“You stupid wolf!” Stiles’ voice shouted, harsh, bitter and full of spite. “You think he’ll care about you once this is over? Do you really think Stiles would join your pack when he has Scott? He only needs you to get your hands dirty. You’re pathetic! A spineless lapdog!”

“Get the fuck out,” Peter snarled, holding tighter. The thing let out a shriek. Stiles thrashed harder for a moment then suddenly when limp. Peter hesitated then carefully laid Stiles on the ground so he could look him over.

He jerked back when black smoke and bugs suddenly swarmed out of Stiles’ mouth. Stiles convulsed as it came out and Peter moved to hold him so he didn’t hurt himself.

Once it was out and Stiles was limp again Peter watched at the smoke swirled for a moment before taking on a vague shape. A fox, he realised, with nine tails.

Fuck.

Peter crouched carefully over Stiles, fangs bared and eyes glowing. He didn’t know much about kitsune, dark or otherwise, but he knew he didn’t want this anywhere near Stiles. The smoke fox made a noise that was clearly supposed to be mocking and feinted forward. Peter didn’t move. He wouldn’t leave an opening for it to get back into Stiles. He wasn’t going to lose his pack again. Not when he could defend it.

The fox showed teeth and lunged forward. Peter anchored himself, unsure how we was going to fight smoke, but determined to defend Stiles however he needed.

Before it reached him the smoke fox suddenly became more solid and seemed to be jerked back. Both of them paused for a moment before realising what had happened. One of the vine from the Nemeton had wrapped around the fox’s tail. Peter just stared as the fox tried to twist and bite the vine.

Even as it did more vines shot out, grabbing its tails and dragging it back. It no longer looked like smoke. With a vine around each tail it looked like a pitch black, fully corporeal, fox. The fox itself was looking rabid now, desperate to escape the vines that continued to wind around its tails. The vines dragged it to the base of the Nemeton and, for a moment, it looked like they were going to pull it under the roots.

Then the fox was suddenly on top of the stump itself, which was sprouting new growth. New green tendrils joined the brown. These ones wrapped around the fox’s body. The fox let out a high, pained whine, almost a scream. The vines squeezed and the fox suddenly exploded into a puff of smoke, which fell to the ground and dissipated. Peter saw it only because of how avidly he was watching, but a single bug fell onto the trunk, dead.

The tree didn’t stop its activity though, and Peter hoped he wouldn’t have to fight the sacred tree. Fortunately it didn’t seem to have any interest in Stiles and Peter. Before Peter’s eyes the new growths it had sprouted grew rapidly. The whole tree grew rapidly, like a seed from the top of the original Nemeton.

Peter watched, awed, as the tree grew. It was strong and healthy. New roots curled over and around the old ones, bright green leaved reached up on thick branches to join the canopy of the preserve.

Stiles let out a small noise and immediately had Peter’s full attention. Peter shifted out of his defensive stand, letting his fangs and claws slip away as he moved to cradle Stiles’ head in his lap. Stiles blinked up at him blearily, confused and trusting.

“Did we do it?” He asked, voice rough like he’d been screaming.

“Have a look for yourself,” Peter said amusedly, nodding towards the Nemeton. Its growth had ceased but it was tall and impressive. Its branches swayed in the light breeze of the preserve and, though Stiles couldn’t tell, its scent was fresh and clean.

“Did, did I do that?” Stiles asked in an awed voice.

“Yes you did,” Peter said, nuzzling into his hair. “You are truly amazing.”

“Amazing enough to be your Emissary, you think?” Stiles asked, focusing a hopeful, amused smile on Peter. Peter just stared for a moment, honestly shocked. Stiles raised an eyebrow. “What? Were you planning to use Deaton?”

“Never.”

“How about it then? I’m a little rough with it, but apparently I can grow trees.”

“I would be greatly honoured to welcome you to my pack, Emissary Stiles,” Peter said with a grin, genuinely delighted, especially as he felt the fledgling bond they’d been forming start to solidify.

“And I will give all I have to keeping your pack strong and healthy, Alpha Hale,” Stiles replied with a fond grin. He gasped as the pack bond fully solidified, almost a tangible thing with how strong it was. The Nemeton’s leaves rustles peacefully in the back ground.

For a moment all else was quiet as they revelled in the new bond. Formed willingly and without obligation. Pure.

“Peter,” Stiles said, drawing Peter from his delight.

“Yes?”

“I still need you to carry me home. Your home. I’m probably going to pass out again.”

Peter let out a laugh, ignoring the way Stiles pouted at him.

“Of course,” he said after a moment, “I would be delighted, my little Emissary.”

Stiles just smiled at him, completely relaxed in his arms as Peter lifted him up, grabbed his bag and headed back for the car. Peter loaded everything up since Stiles was already drifting off again. Before he could start the car Stiles reached out for him, looking at him with half-awake eyes.

“Hey, I’m happy you’re my Alpha,” he said, voice completely sincere.

“I’m just glad you’re mine,” Peter replied amusedly.

“Perv,” Stiles said with no real accusation, letting himself drift again. “We can’t have sex till I’m eighteen. I don’t want you to get shot.”

“I’m sure I can live with that,” Peter replied. He only got a light hum in answer. He smiled as he started driving home. Yes, things were looking good.

He could live with this.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not, in anyway, condone murder.
> 
> Trigger warning for Nogitsune using Stiles. The Nogitsune tries to make Peter have sex with Stiles without Stiles' consent. He doesn't succeed but gets close.


End file.
